


Aftermath

by beeswaxing



Series: Trophy Wife [11]
Category: DBSK | Tohoshinki | TVfXQ | TVXQ
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-09
Updated: 2017-04-09
Packaged: 2018-10-16 18:22:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10576929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beeswaxing/pseuds/beeswaxing
Summary: Changmin trades on illusion, and for the seventeen year old supermodel, keeping up that illusion is the only way he will survive.





	

 

Yunho stares at the dozing teenager next to him. In sleep, the planes of the supermodel’s face soften so considerably that it’s almost as if the sleeping boy and the hellcat demanding to be fucked to within an inch of his tolerance are two completely different people. He should be disturbed by how easily Changmin had fooled him, and to a certain extent, he still is. However, even he is willing to admit he definitely had a part in it for several times, he’d noticed how young Changmin looked and yet, he chose not to look deeper into it.

For fear of learning the truth no doubt. 

He reaches out to push a wisp of curl dangling over the sleeping teen’s forehead when the formerly smooth forehead crinkles instantly at his light touch, and his hand freezes.

“This isn’t how this is supposed to work.”

Yunho doesn’t even bother trying to guess what the boy is referring to as the furrow in his brow deepens. Instead, he pulls his hand back, dropping it in the small space between them.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re supposed to be gone when my eyes open.”

“You’re going to make me leave in a torn shirt and no underwear?”

“That’s your problem, not mine.”

“Such a prize, aren’t you, little one?”

Changmin bristles instantly, annoyed at how his body reacts to the endearment. It is the thread of amusement that he can hear that bugs him. He might be mature, but he’s also a teenager, and like most, still self-conscious and displeased when laughed at. And he most certainly isn’t _little_.

“You’re not exactly a great catch either, old man.”

“Oh? Pray tell me what my faults are.”

“You just have one dark mark and there’s absolutely nothing you can do about it.”

“What is it?” Yunho asks, unable to stop his smile at seeing the teenager’s mouth quirk in a semblance of what the boy probably believes is a smile.

“You’re just too fucking old.”

—

Jaejoong corners Changmin the second he enters the ante chamber off the Grand Ballroom. He grabs the taller man by the arm, dragging him to the corner of the room, as he barks at everyone to get the fuck out.

One by one, his retinue leave, though the blond doesn’t wait before he lets loose.

“Please tell me that was a nightmare and I dreamt the whole thing up.”

“Is your imagination that wild, hyung?” Changmin questions with a sardonic grin at his friend.

“My imagination is that wild, but not when it comes to you. What the fuck? Are you insane?”

Changmin shrugs as he examines his nails, running the edge of it on his teeth, not answering his friend who is practically bouncing on his feet in agitation.

“Shim Changmin, this isn’t a joke.”

“I’m not laughing.”

“You’re not listening either. You don’t just fuck Jung Yunho and think it’s over.”

“Pretty sure he fucked me.”

Jaejoong throws his hands up in exasperation, before slamming both hands back down hard on Changmin’s shoulders, and the younger teen is unable to hide his wince as the pain travels down his body and makes all the aching places ache even more.

“Hurts, does it?” The blond spitfire glares up at the stubborn brunette. “Fucked you, did he? My finger is one button away from calling the police and I don’t even care if it ruins my marriage. What you’re feeling now is nothing compared to how you’re going to feel when he drops you like a hot potato. Jung Yunho isn’t the marrying sort.”

“Don’t you think I know that?” Changmin pushes his friend away. Hard. He doesn’t even flinch as Jaejoong crashes into the wall, and he is ready when the blond comes back fighting, grabbing Jaejoong’s wrists before they can land on him. “I’m not stupid.”

“Really? You’re not? Are you sure? I’ve made sure no one fucks with you for years and I let you out of my sight for two hours and you go and do this. I have to question your sanity then if you claim not to be stupid.”

Changmin once again shoves his friend away as he turns, storming away towards the dressing table. “What the fuck is your problem? Why is this any different from you, huh? You were seventeen when that old fucker fucked you too.”

“Careful, Minnie. That’s my husband you’re talking about.”

“Whatever. Are you suddenly going to pretend you love him or something? Give me a break.” Changmin spits out, extremely aggravated now. 

“Of course not, but we didn’t fuck till I got the damn engagement notice sent to the fucking papers. Insurance. I have nothing but my face and body to trade on and you know it. I’m not about to sell myself short.”

The laugh Changmin lets out is filled with so much pain, Jaejoong stops short, closing his mouth on the tirade he is about to continue on. 

“Do you really think I fucking care? I don’t want to be married. I don’t want to be with anyone. I’m self-sufficient and I’m more than happy where I am right now. I don’t need anyone. I don’t even fucking need you, hyung.”

“Changmin…” Jaejoong sighs as he watches his friend sit heavily down on the bench, and the resultant cry of pain and wince that practically has him curling forward. Jaejoong lets out his own distressed cry as he runs forward to the hunched over teenager. “Bloody fuck, what the hell did he do to you?”

“Nothing.” Changmin shakes his head as he exhales carefully through his mouth. It’s not so much his ass hurts, but his back, and the pain had flared across so quickly, he’d been unable to keep his sounds to himself. 

“The fuck he did nothing. I don’t remember being in this much pain my first time.”

“You also only fucked once, remember? You were too uncomfortable to go again.”

Jaejoong’s jaw drops as he steps back, tilting Changmin’s face up to his. He can see the amusement in the teen’s eyes, and the cloud of pain is there but dissipating quickly as his young friend smirks back at him. 

“How many times?” he asks, licking his suddenly dry lips and swallowing hard. 

“Guess.”

“Twice?” Jaejoong’s tone is incredulous, his own first time was, while great, the aftermath was way more uncomfortable than he’d imagined possible. The pain threshold of the blond is much lower than the younger man, the older teenager getting much more precious about a little pain compared to Changmin. 

Changmin’s smirk widens as he coughs and shakes his head. 

“Oh my god you’re crazy. Are you serious?” Jaejoong is pretty much all eyes at this point, his already large, expressive doe eyes as big as saucers as he stares in utter disbelief at the brunette. 

“I did have a lot of time…”

“You were supposed to be sleeping, not fucking!” Jaejoong pinches Changmin’s arm, satisfied at the baleful glare he gets for his trouble, though the brunette doesn’t even flinch.

Changmin shrugs nonchalantly as he examines his nails yet again. “Well, if it was going to be a onetime thing, I figured it better be something worth remembering.”

“And was it?”

“What do you think?”

Jaejoong drops onto the bench next to his best friend with a loud huff. “I’m almost afraid to ask for details because I have to admit, Jung Yunho has invaded my dreams once or twice.”

“He has?”

“A very long ago,” Jaejoong pats Changmin’s knee, trying to hide his smile at the teen’s immediate belligerence. “But I’m more than happy _and satisfied_ with my husband.” The blond suddenly squirms in his seat, all sparkling doe eyes and a huge shit-eating grin on his face. “It feels funny saying it. My husband. I have a husband!”

“Congratulations.”

The smile turns into a pout instantly. “You know, we could manipulate Yunho into marrying you. He did tell me he’d be responsible for you.”

Changmin gets up and starts to pace, his hand carding over and over and over through his hair that it turns into a bird’s nest within a minute. “How many times do I have to tell you? I don’t want to be married.”

Jaejoong looks at his friend closely, head cocked as he watches the agitated teenager who’d gone from pained, to self-satisfied, to worried in mere minutes. “You know, your mouth says no but your expression says you’re thinking about it.”

“No, I’m not,” Changmin retorts quickly, turning away and changing his path so that he doesn’t have to face his perceptive best friend. 

The blond watches for a couple more minutes before he asks quietly.

“Did you use protection?”

The answer is awhile in coming, but the falter in Changmin’s step is enough for the blond who shakes his head and sighs loudly, the exhalation practically echoing in the room. It is that long-suffering. For someone purportedly smart, Changmin has acted so uncharacteristically that Jaejoong has no idea who this man before him is. The logical, methodical, no-nonsense young man whose prickly exterior hides many insecurities actually looks to be at a genuine loss.

His voice is soft, as he calls out to his friend, “Changminnie…”

“No.”

“Do you—“

“I don’t want to think about it.”

“But—“

“No!”

“Fine!” Jaejoong stands up, huffing as he slams into the taller teen, wrapping his arms around his waist and holding him tight. “You’re not in this alone, ok? No matter what you think, and I know how that mind of yours works, you’re not doing this alone. I’m going to be here every step of the way ok? I promise. I’m not going anywhere Minnie-ah.”

Changmin stares at his disheveled reflection in the mirror, as he murmurs his agreement and acceptance of his best friend’s words.

His eyes tell him otherwise.

—

“Will you take Changmin home?”

“I don’t need anyone to take me home.”

“Yes,” Yunho answers, ignoring the fulminating glare sent his way as he smiles at the gorgeous Park Jaejoong whose eyes are sparking with amusement and a bit of something else. The blond had promised Micky to sheathe his claws as long as Yunho keeps his hands off Changmin. While he’d been a little doubtful about agreeing to such a thing, he doesn’t want to ruin his best friend’s wedding either so he’s been on his best behavior.

It’s rather fortunate that they’re seated with the married couple between them though, because Yunho found himself sneaking glances down the table on more than one occasion much to his disgust. To add insult to injury, he never ever, not even once, catches Changmin looking his way. Whenever he sneaks a peek, the teen is looking away, whispering with Jaejoong, or completely and wholly concentrating on the delicious food before him. Considering his size, the boy can definitely pack away way more food than his body ought to be capable of holding.

His conscience steps in at this point, extremely vocal and somewhat gleeful as it points out that Changmin is still technically, a growing _boy_ and it’s normal for a teenager his age to eat a lot.

Well, that pretty much quashes Yunho’s interest in how much food Changmin can consume.

“You promised,” Jaejoong pouts up at his best friend, and Yunho has to look away. Jaejoong isn’t known for being an ullzzang for no good reason. His pout is lethal. 

Changmin doesn’t budge, arms crossed defiantly, he stares his best friend down. “Your pout doesn’t work on me.”

Jaejoong pouts harder, batting his eyes even and making cute little whiny sounds in the back of his throat as he crowds his best friend. 

Micky is trying not to laugh at his wife, while Yunho’s eyes are solely on Changmin. He sees exactly when the brunette gives in, his shoulders slumping ever so slightly as he sighs, reaching out to play with the wisps of hair by the blond’s cheek.

“You owe me.”

Jaejoong chances a look over his shoulder at Yunho, catching his eye before he returns his gaze to his best friend. “We’ll see who owes whom when the night is over, alright?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It’s my wedding day and it means whatever I want it to mean.”

Changmin makes a disgusted sound as he shoves his friend playfully away. “Marriage has made you even stupider. Come on, I wanna talk to the girls.” And with that, the tall young supermodel doesn’t even wait for the most important person in the ballroom as he spins on his heel and strides off, fully expecting his hyung to come along.

“That wretch,” Jaejoong growls, though the affection in his voice is unmistakeable as he follows after Changmin.

“So you decided to finally listen to me for once and take a trophy wife?”

Yunho doesn’t reply, eyes following Changmin across the ballroom as he mingles with a bunch of what looks to be fellow models along with Jaejoong. The teenager’s stubbornness is practically admirable, the brunette resolutely refusing to treat Yunho any differently whatsoever despite the near four hours they spent in the teen’s suite. True to form, Changmin had actually tricked Yunho into leaving the suite to pick up room service, only to shut the door behind him and feign deafness to the subsequent knocking.

He’d be angrier had he not been expecting it, but Yunho knew he’d been sent on a fool’s errand the second Changmin’s request left his lips. The teen might be very good at trickery, but only when the person he’s tricking isn’t looking for it. His eyes showed a combination of guilt and regret as he’d made his request, and so Yunho was well prepared to be left in the hallway wearing nothing but his unbuttoned pants and a wife beater.

Thankfully, he bumped into no one on his way back to his own suite on a higher floor, though really, other hotel guests might actually question his sanity rather than attire for he’d spent the whole time chuckling to himself at the audacity of the young man. Here he is, one of the most revered, respected, and even feared man in South Korea, and he can’t even intimidate a seventeen year old. 

Oddly enough, instead of getting annoyed at the boy’s rudeness, he’d found it interesting. Refreshing isn’t the correct word, for he doesn’t actually enjoy the teen’s impudence being directed at him, but he has to give him credit where it’s due. As long as the boy knows when to behave, Yunho has no problem with the brat.

They’re interrupted by several business acquaintances who want to talk shop as well as congratulate Micky, and Yunho’s attention finally wanders away from the porcupine by the name of Shim Changmin for the first time that night.

A good hour later, the five men and two women finally leave the best friends alone.

Yunho is still preoccupied by the conversation they’d just had, but happy-go-lucky Micky Park Yoochun has no time for weighty matters such as billion won investments to distract him from the fact that this is his wedding day. 

His mouth teases Yunho about the gorgeous woman who had flirted so shamelessly with his best friend that even Micky, with all his grease had felt a tad uncomfortable. 

His eyes search out his wife whom he finds easily, the rose among the thorns of several pretty females who pale in comparison to the stunning blond. Curious at the fact that the extra large, extra beautiful thorn is missing from his side, he widens his search to look for the brunette.

And find him he does, much to his amusement.

“Looks like your little bird has flown,” Micky laughs as he watches a tall, handsome man literally wrap himself around Changmin, chin on his shoulder as he whispers something in his ear that makes the teenager laugh so hard that he can hear it above the loud chatter in the ballroom. “Though to be honest, I think you could do better than him. If you think Jaejoong is bad, that boy is worse. I wouldn’t put it past him to actually draw blood if he wants to.”

Yunho’s expression darkens in an instant, as he slams his empty wine glass on the table, all good intentions of not making a scene or ruining his best friend’s wedding leaving his brain the moment the foolish man touched what belongs to him. 

It of course fails to occur to him that the woman rubbing up against him earlier had been behaving far worse.

There are very few things Yunho feels proprietary over. A collector by nature, of books though more than anything else, no one is allowed to touch his things without his permission. His library is a veritable mecca of rare first edition comics and pulp fiction, a hobby nobody knows about save for Micky. 

And not even Micky is allowed to touch his comics.

But after the afternoon he’s just had, he finds that he can add one more possession he will not _allow_ anyone else to touch. Something that belongs only to him, so utterly and completely, that the satisfaction he feels at being the sole person on the face of the earth to touch such beauty makes his fury at the audacity of the foolish man even more unchecked.

He is deaf to Micky calling out to him, as the music starts, signaling an exodus towards the dance floor by mostly Jaejoong’s half of the invitees, his eyes fixated on Changmin. Yunho cuts a swath through the crowded dance floor in the middle of the ballroom to get to the unsuspecting teenager.

Changmin is giggling, having downed a fair few glasses of wine too many, whatever his friend is telling him seems inordinately hilarious. He feels free for the first time that night, away from the unrelenting gaze of Jung Yunho whose eyes have been on him all fucking night, the teenager lets go of the tightly held reins of control he’d been hanging on to. The cold exterior he’d almost sweated rivers maintaining while at the dinner table to keep from giving Yunho the tiniest amount of attention had been a true exercise of his mental acuity. He’d drunk far more than he should, and for some reason, the affect of the alcohol hits him like a ten ton truck the minute he’s outside spitting distance from Jung fucking Yunho.

It’s like his body knows it can relax.

The tightly coiled tendrils of remembered lust unwinds slowly as he and Jaejoong made their way across the ballroom to their friends.

A couple more glasses of wine later, and he’s even allowed poor Zhou Mi to talk to him about his woe at missing his boyfriend. As someone who loathes small talk, Changmin has all but dove into it at this wedding celebration. One more uncharacteristic behavior to tick off.

He is humming along to the music that just started, leaning back against the skinny Chinese man, when his centre of gravity suddenly changes, and he loses his balance as the man he was previously leaning against is unceremoniously yanked from him. The room spins slightly, and he has no idea what the fuck just happened as he tries to regain his focus. He isn’t drunk, just buzzed but anyone would get disoriented after an unprovoked attack from god knows where The music is very loud, and it’s all he can hear before a very firm hand on his bicep brings his focus back to painful clarity.

His legs can barely keep up as his senses are assaulted by a familiar scent as he is literally dragged from his friends.

Yunho.

He starts to struggle, but the grip on his upper arm tightens, a voice a low voice in his ear growling at him, warning him to not to cause a scene and upset Jaejoong.

Too shocked to react, and still too buzzed to get upset (yet), Changmin allows himself to be led out into the gardens towards the entrance of the hotel.

They bump into several other guests along the way, all from Yunho’s circle of acquaintances, and his grip of the supermodel lets up in their company. 

Yunho exchanges smiles and empty platitudes, all the while keeping a warning hand in the small of Changmin’s back as they converse.

To the supermodel’s credit, he manages to recover his composure, turning cool and distant in the blink of an eye, aloof and haughty, he doesn’t deign to speak to the guests, leaning into Yunho slightly, he keeps his eyes downcast though really, he wants nothing more than to sock the stupid man in the gut and run for it. However, he knows how to behave even though it irks him to have to act in such a way.

When someone makes a comment about losing not just one of South Korea’s most eligible bachelors that night but two, and the answering chuckle from Yunho, Changmin finally decides enough is enough. He’s done playing the fool for Yunho and perpetuating whatever farcical bullshit the man is trying to insinuate to his friends.

The supermodel steps away from Yunho’s side, his smile is cold as he excuses himself, leaving without waiting for Yunho’s permission as is the norm, jaw tightening as masculine laughter trails after him, knowing that somehow, it has something to do with him.

He reaches the sprawling driveway of the main entrance just as a hideous vehicle pulls up alongside him, stopping right by him. Changmin pauses, staring at the monstrosity, wondering who the fuck it belongs to, thinking whoever it is has got the worst taste ever. He can’t even decide if it’s a car or a van. It seems to be a mixture of both, or a van masquerading as a car. Whatever it is, it’s fucking ugly.

The car or van or whatever the fuck it is, is in his way and he moves to walk around it when a hand snags his wrist and he is yanked backwards.

Changmin is getting really fucking sick of being manhandled for no damn good reason and his hand goes swinging at the fool holding him, but it’s caught mid swing.

“Going so soon, pretty baby?” The endearment is all but, Yunho’s eyes are frosty, as is his voice.

“Call me that one more time and I’ll yank your fucking tongue out.” Changmin shakes off the older man, straightening up. “Who the fuck do you think you are? Get lost.”

Yunho smiles.

Changmin gets mad.

“What the hell are you smiling about? Are you stupid? What language shall I speak in? Japanese? English? Unfortunately, I don’t speak idiot.”

Yunho’s smile doesn’t waver, but it doesn’t reach his eyes either. “Do not mistake my smiles for idiocy, Shim Changmin. I am far from a fool, and you should be fully aware of that. You have two choices right now. You either get in that car, and I’ll take you home, or I throw you over my shoulder and we give these good people something to remember our best friends’ wedding by.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

Yunho’s face softens as he sees the agitation in the teenager’s eyes. “Look, I don’t want to fight, especially not in front of these people. I will take you home whether you want me to or not. It’s the least I can do.”

“You’ve done enough, thanks. I can find my own way home.”

“Do you want me to call Jaejoong? I will call him and tell him that you lied to him when you said you’d let me take you home.”

“Why the fuck won’t you leave me alone?” Changmin growls from under his breath, fighting with himself and everything in between. He really just wants to be left alone. His ass is starting to hurt, his body definitely hurts, his pride has taken a battering he hasn’t seen the likes of, and to compound it all, even his damn head hurts. 

And every single bit of pain is Jung fucking Yunho’s fault.

“I’m responsible for you, Changmin.”

“The fuck you are.”

“I am responsible from the moment we had sex without a fucking condom, and then I find out you’re only seventeen. You’re not even legal, and I’m not about to let you go home on your own when your judgment is clearly fucking impaired. Just get in the fucking car and let us get this night over and done with, alright?”

Changmin can add one more hurt to his list of pains.

But he’s not about to acknowledge it.

He straightens his shoulders, squaring them as he takes a deep breath. His eyes lift, his countenance as haughty as he can manage at the small audience watching them curiously from the garden. He sweeps his gaze from right to left, eyes dark and flashing with frustration, though to anyone watching, the gorgeous supermodel simply looks angry. His mouth twists in disgust at the people watching them before he finally turns to get into the monstrosity that Jung Yunho calls a car. 

“Atta boy,” Yunho whispers under his breath, oddly proud at the way Changmin had carried himself. Backed into a corner, and yet he still leaves on his own terms.

Head held high, and defiance from every rigid line of his body. The seventeen year old has more pride than he ought to have in someone so young, but Yunho understands that pride.

He almost admires it. 

Yunho sweeps everyone with a similar glance, but his, works to cause them all to shy away, eyes cast downwards and anywhere but at him. Satisfied with their reaction, Jung Yunho finally gets into the car after Shim Changmin.

“Where to, Sir?” the driver asks, and Yunho opens his mouth to instruct Changmin to answer the man but the teenager beats him to it. 

The address he gives is in a district a good 45 minutes drive away. If Yunho is surprised, he hides it as he presses the button to lift the screen between themselves and the driver, cutting them off completely from view and sound.

He settles into his seat as the vehicle starts to move, clasping his hands in his lap, and gazing out the heavily tinted windows. 

Jung Yunho is furious.

With himself.

He lays no blame on Changmin no matter what the young supermodel thinks. It was he who chased the innocent teenager, and it was he who chose to continue after Jaejoong’s furious interruption mid-coitus. It was also he who had forgotten about the condom, not Changmin. It was him who had overreacted at a simple conversation between Changmin and the nameless older man. He has a feeling the man is from the fashion industry because no one touches anyone like that in his circles. 

Not unless they’re lovers.

And he sees red once again. 

He has no cause to disbelieve Jaejoong or Changmin, and for the man to have taken advantage of Changmin’s slightly inebriated state makes Yunho want to tell his driver to turn around so he can return to the party and punch the man into the ballroom floor.

The cracking of Yunho’s knuckles is loud in the silent car, the tension so oppressive that the menacing sound startles Changmin out of his own reverie.

His own hands are clasped over his belly, the magnitude of his actions finally sinking in with Yunho’s words earlier. 

A reminder if you must, for Jaejoong has already pointed it out.

No condom.

He closes his eyes, feeling the burn of unwanted tears behind his eyeballs. 

There is a quiet sound of a jaw cracking as Changmin once again fights with himself. Today has been a total disaster when it comes to control. If there’s a scoreboard it’ll probably read Changmin 0 Body 5.

He couldn’t hide his reaction to Yunho.

He couldn’t suffocate his desire for the man.

He couldn’t stop his heart from skipping when the businessman had held him so tenderly after that he honestly had no choice but to kick Yunho out of his suite before he drowns in sentimental bullshit he wants no part of.

And he couldn’t stop the irrational surge of jealousy he’d felt when he saw Yunho speaking to that woman. Or rather, when he saw her rubbing herself all over Yunho and the man doing _nothing_ to stop her. 

The bitter taste of reality is hard to swallow, and Changmin had been both angry and hurt at the whole thing. What can he expect anyway? Didn’t he go into it knowing it was a one time thing?

That’s the only reason he’d flirted back with the Chinese model, Zhou Mi. The man is handsy as fuck, but also in a very monogamous relationship with a popular photographer who couldn’t make it to the wedding, something Jung Yunho obviously knows nothing about if his reaction is anything to go by.

As if being hauled bodily through the crowd as if he’d been a delinquent child hadn’t been bad enough, he had to stand among Yunho’s peers and smile as the fuckers teased Yunho while eyeing him up and down, about no longer being eligible.

Changmin refused to acknowledge his body’s reaction to that.

What he does acknowledge is the fact that Jung Yunho is too fucking used to getting his own way, and Changmin has had enough.

The scoreboard reads five because Changmin cannot stop the tear that slips out of the corner of his eye as he cradles his hand over his belly. 

What has he done?

He’s seventeen with a burgeoning career, and now, no family. 

Jaejoong will declare otherwise of course, but Changmin loves his best friend too much to impose on a newly married couple. Despite the blond’s words, he knows his friend cares about his new husband. He just doesn’t want the world to know yet, and Changmin will keep that secret.

And with that secret, comes the knowledge that he truly is alone in this.

Whatever _this_ is. 

Yunho cannot take it anymore. 

The silence is killing him.

The tension is suffocating.

And he really doesn’t want to take Changmin home and leave him alone in what is more than likely a small studio apartment of some sort. The fashion industry looks glamourous, but the reality probably isn’t very shiny for someone within it. Micky had described the environment as toxic, marrying Jaejoong almost out of hand to “save” him from it. Being the top of their industry has its perks, but it is still a very cutthroat world where you trade on your looks and the moment you lose it, that’s it. They are at the mercy of directors and photographers who will not hesitate in taking advantage of a situation. He doesn’t know anything about Changmin’s finances, but to keep up the appearance of a top international supermodel is expensive. Celebrities get given products to endorse, supermodels just wear them. 

While Yunho is sure both Jaejoong and Changmin are better off than their peers, their environment isn’t healthy.

His mind is working overtime, probably harder than it ever has in recent times. He is trying to justify what he is planning, and every single argument he provides strengthens his resolve to go ahead with it, and yet there is a nagging voice in the background asking him why he’s doing it.

Why does he want Changmin so badly?

Yunho is a man who takes what he wants when he wants it. He’s powerful enough that he doesn’t ever have to ask twice for anything. In fact, what he wants is usually offered without him needing to ask. 

But he’s asking now.

And he’ll start with an apology, for the skittish teenager next to him will not deign to reply to anything less. It rankles Yunho a little to have to do this, but they’re alone, and he does believe that whatever goes on between the two of them will not go further. 

Not even to the newlywed Park Jaejoong, for he had overheard the blond pestering Changmin for details during dinner, but the brunette had simply smiled and shaken his head, much to the frustration of the marginally older teen.

For some inexplicable reason, he wants to coax out the softness in the cantankerous teenager. 

He clears his throat, turning his face away from the window to look down at his clasped hands for a moment before he angles his head towards his silent companion next to him.

“Do you know I almost never swear?”

Changmin doesn’t make a sound. There is absolutely no indication that he heard the industrialist speak.

“I don’t know what it is about you. Perhaps your own potty mouth is making me remember what it’s like to have one.”

“Blame me for everything why don’t you? You can’t turn into more of an asshole already if you tried.”

“I’m truly sorry for being an ass. I set out to prove you wrong today, that I’m not the ass your first impression pegged me to be, but I ended our night by being exactly what you believed me to be.”

Changmin isn’t sure he’s hearing right. He wipes away at his wet cheek as discreetly as he can manage as he straightens in the soft leather seat that is so comfortable it’s practically moulded to his sore ass and back. He doesn’t reply though.

Yunho takes the teenager’s reticence as a cue to continue. 

“I know you want to go home, and I will respect that. However, I’m _asking_ that you consider carefully what I’m about to say.”

Changmin straights even more, his body ramrod straight now, ignoring the dull ache in his lower back as he finally turns towards the other man. Yunho isn’t looking at him, his gaze appearing to be taking in his outstretched foot instead. He rearranges his expression into his customary cool, haughty and completely closed off supermodel poker face.

He makes a show of checking his watch, noting the time as he clears his throat as inconspicuously as he can manage.

“What are you waiting for? An invitation?”

Yunho looks up instantly at the cold and calm words spilling from the parched lips of the teenager whom he can see is doing his level best to _appear_ unaffected.

“You’re a real piece of work do you know that??” He’s been asking the same question pretty much since he first met the gangly brunette, and as yet, he hasn’t received a satisfactory answer.

“And you’re really fucking old. Do you have any idea how many times you’ve said that? Do you have a personal assistant? I think you need someone to mind you in your old age lest people get bored to death from your repetitive ways.”

“Are you offering?”

“You couldn’t pay me enough.”

“How about I marry you instead?”

“No, thank you.”

Such a polite response to something Yunho had actually been serious about, though he hadn’t meant to bring it up just then. It just sort of comes out, and the man is more than a little irritated with himself and in that irritation, he snaps at Changmin instead.

“You’re not going to get a better offer.”

“I’ll take my chances,” Changmin replies without any rancor as he crosses his arms and turns to stare out the window, his expression impassive. The lights go by, the car not moving fast enough for his liking. He just wants to go home to his little studio, curl up in bed, and forget this day ever happened. The only good thing about it is Jaejoong, and he will focus on the image of his best friend and his happy shining eyes if it’s the last thing he does.

Yunho looks at the teenager’s stunning profile, pausing to re-evaluate, before he tries again.

For the last time, for he has his pride and he’s not about to ask someone like Changmin a third time.

“Will you let me take you to my home so we can talk about this?”

“What’s wrong with mine? A cramped studio too small for Jung Yunho?”

“No, but I think you’d be more comfortable in my home.”

“Money doesn’t buy comfort, old man.”

“It does, and a smart young, worldly supermodel like you ought to know that. I’ll indulge you however. Say you’re right? Then teach me what will, but I’m asking you to give me an hour. I promise I will return you home after an hour if you wish to go.”

“One hour to fuck me stupid so I’ll do anything you say?”

“I think that would take at least five hours since four hours this afternoon hasn’t even gotten me a kiss this evening.”

“Poor baby,” Changmin replies so insincerely that it causes Yunho to grin

“Well? Can I take you to my home?”

Changmin shrugs. “Whatever.”

Yunho speaks into the intercom, instructing the driver to head home, before he turns to the teenager.

“What do you want?”

“Nothing.”

“You want for nothing? Are you sure about that? You can’t be a supermodel forever. Tell me, what is it that you want?”

Changmin turns in his seat, partially facing away from Yunho, he offers the older man his back. He knows it’s rude, but he doesn’t care.

Nothing matters.

“Changmin.”

The way he calls his name sounds chillingly absolute. As if he’s at the end of his patience and Changmin will not like the consequences if he doesn’t respond. He knows he’s playing with fire being rude to a man like Yunho. At the hotel, he had the luxury of being surrounded by help should he require it. Jaejoong had offered to put him up in the luxurious hotel for a week, but Changmin had declined, wanting nothing more than to be alone to wallow in the newfound gap in his young life.

Self-sufficient. 

He wants to be that so badly. He wants nothing and no one. It just complicates matters.

But here in this car belonging to the mogul he can feel is probably close to breathing fire down his back instead of kissing his way down, Changmin decides to allow his sense of self-preservation to kick in rather than suppress it.

“Freedom. I want freedom.”

Yunho is a little surprised.

No, he’s very surprised. He’d definitely expected something more material.

“You can have it.”

“Then stop this car and let me out.”

Yunho chuckles lowly, finally understanding. “I was asking long term, not immediate. I’ll let you go as promised, brat. I don’t lie and I don’t go back on my promises and since I have you here, tell me what you want.”

Changmin latches onto that promise like a lifeline, and responds a little more willingly this time, though he still keeps his body turned away, staring out the window as he speaks.

“I still want freedom. I don’t want to be tied to anyone or anything. I just want to be free.”

“No plans for marriage then?”

“Never.”

“Didn’t your mama ever tell you never say never?”

“My mama died when I was fourteen.”

Yunho pauses at the quiet reply. Noting the absolute lack of emotion in the teen’s voice. It’s cold and flat, and this bugs the businessman.

“And your father?”

“Same accident.”

“Siblings?”

“I have no one but Jaejoong, and I’m sure he’ll notice if I disappear into a ditch somewhere so don’t get any ideas.”

“He’s going away for two months. It’ll be too late by then.”

“Believe me, Jaejoong has the Park billions to make sure you don’t get away with it.”

“And I’m the one who made sure Park actually has those billions in the first place.”

“Are you threatening me? I wouldn’t put it past you.”

Yunho shakes his head, replying when he realizes the teen can’t see him. “What can I do to improve your impression of me? I feel like somehow we’ve regressed. What happened to the boy who dozed off in my arms this afternoon?”

“He came to his senses.”

“About?”

“The fact that he’s as disposable as the fucking condom we didn’t use.”

The loathing and venom in the teen’s voice gives Yunho pause. He leans forward to look in the window, his eyes meeting Changmin’s frustrated eyes in the reflection.

“I’m trying to make this right.”

“No, you’re trying to ease your conscience. Don’t worry, oh mighty Jung Yunho. I’ve forgotten this afternoon ever happened and I suggest you do too.”

For the second time, Yunho decides to change his tact. 

“I can give you that freedom you crave.”

“No, you can’t. Not if it means being tied to you.”

“Would that really be so bad?”

“It’s a fate worse than death.”

Yunho chuckles this time. He notices the teenager’s back stiffen at his laughter. So haughty, and truly a teenager with his melodrama. 

“What if you never have to answer to anyone ever again? Everyone will step aside when you walk in and if they don’t you can knock them out of your way if you please.”

“You’re a bully. I’m not.”

Yunho’s laughter is tinged with exasperation this time. “Is this how you behave every time someone tries to give you something?”

“Something doesn’t come with a ball and chain the way your something does.”

The older man is partly amused and partly annoyed, though amusement wins out. “I’ve never asked anyone to marry me, and I never imagined the response to be like this in a million years.”

“Of course not. You expected whoever it was to swoon at your feet and kiss your toes in gratitude.”

“That does sound infinitely better.”

“In your fucking dreams.”

It is that response that pushes Yunho to go against what he’d promised himself several minutes ago. He is going to try a third time. The need to possess and tame this firecracker is like a thirst deep within him and it’s a thirst that will not be quenched till he has the infuriating teenager.

He tugs the boy’s arm, making him turn, before he leans across, cupping the teenager’s jaw, pulling his forward and kissing him.

Yunho is glad he gets a tongue instead of teeth, though he is more than a little surprised when the teenager pushes up the arm rests between them to climb into his lap. The teenager is so deliciously long-limbed and the way he curls and unfurls his body drives Yunho to the edge of sanity much too quickly for his peace of mind. Yes, it is lust that is primarily driving this, but Changmin’s behavior at the wedding especially when they’d bumped into Yunho’s acquaintances had rooted the idea more firmly in Yunho’s mind. 

Micky is wrong. Yunho doubts he can find a better wife. No one has ever suited him physically as well as Changmin, and no one certainly tests his patience the way the teenager does, but he rather enjoys the jabs. Maybe the teenager’s penchance for pain is rubbing off. He’s only seventeen yet acts much older, and not in an obnoxious _I wanna be an adult_ type of way, but rather his bearing is simply extremely poised for someone who should still be in high school. 

Yunho is good at reading people and while the teen is puzzling, he also instinctively knows that the boy is extremely prideful, and it is that pride that will serve Yunho well. He can sense that Changmin is the type who would never let anyone get the better of him and make him lose control. Causing a scene is odious to the boy who’d spent years with a drama queen by the name of Jaejoong.

The unplanned test at the hotel is a very good example of that. It isn’t just the poise in the way Changmin had carried himself in there, but the way he’d _appeared_ deferential and submissive to Yunho immediately. The businessman couldn’t have asked for a better wife, the way Changmin had appeared so beautiful and so untouchable, and so fucking haughty at being imposed upon by those people that Yunho almost crowed in triumph. Oh, he knows it’s all for show of course, and the gorgeous brunette was probably devising several ways of emasculating him while they stood there, but that’s the beauty of it. Everyone is so fucking shallow that appearances is all that matters and Changmin _appears_ to be good enough to give most of his acquaintances lessons in it. He’d behaved appropriately despite his anger with Yunho, though his exit needs a bit of work. 

But it’s nothing catastrophic, and Yunho is more than capable of moulding a wife the way he moulds companies.

Changmin breaks the kiss, staring at the older man with shuttered eyes. “I still don’t want to marry you.”

“I will give you a billion won for every year of marriage, but if we divorce due to infidelity on your part, you don’t get a cent, nor do you get any children we might have from this union.”

“Expensive hooker, don’t you think?”

“Don’t cheapen yourself, Changmin. I’m making this offer in all seriousness. Men like me don’t have the luxury of wading in sentimental bullshit. A marriage is a contract for services performed and rendered. I’ll be a good husband, and you’ll be a good wife. Anyone who breaks the contract, simply pays the consequences. I don’t want your money, I just want a wife who doesn’t make me cringe every time he opens his mouth, who is intelligent and capable enough to run a large household and manage the finances associated with running such a household, and despite the comfort you will be afforded, will not simply laze around doing fuck all. The fact that you’ve been working since you were fourteen is a shining star on your resume if this _role_ actually required applications.”

Can he be any colder? Changmin really cannot help but wonder what happened to the tender man who’d apologized for hurting him earlier that afternoon. Perhaps they’re just facets of a cube, or perhaps Yunho is just a damn good actor.

Changmin can act too. He’s not saying yes, but he isn’t saying no either. He’d had to control his reaction when Yunho threw out the numbers. A billion won is a lot of money, substantially more than even what Jaejoong was initially offered, and what’s a year anyway? 

“What if the infidelity is on your part?”

Yunho is genuinely surprised at the question. He’s practically twice the teenager’s age, and in all that time, has never met anyone that arouses as many things in him as this boy does. He’s not one for idle dalliances for he simply doesn’t have the time nor the patience for it. He can feel the teenager capitulating slowly, and he’s holding onto that. The more he speaks, the more he realizes having a wife would be one hell of a convenient arrangement. 

Now to actually get the teen to agree properly.

“It won’t.”

“You can’t know that.”

“I’m sixteen years older than you, Shim Changmin. I know myself well enough.”

Instead of feeling disgusted by the massive age difference, Changmin finds his traitorous body reacting to that interesting bit of news. 

“What if I have to be away for a shoot for a week? You don’t seem like the waiting sort.”

“Then I’ll make sure all your contracts don’t allow for more than three days of overseas shooting.”

“You can’t do that!”

“I will, if you want me to change the contracts.”

“I don’t care,” the teen replies dismissively, turning to gaze out the window. He doesn’t notice his fingers playing with the hair at the nape of Yunho’s neck, the caress is sweet, and previously, wholly saved for Jaejoong.

Yunho clenches his jaw, taking a calming breath, he replies as gently as he can manage for the boy’s fingers are making his body react to the innocent touch and he’s a little thrown because of it. “Then I’ll come with you if you’re really worried about my supposed infidelity. Changmin, work with me here.”

“I’m no fool, Yunho.”

Yunho resolutely, and determinedly ignores the tug in his chest at being called by name. “Will you at least consider it?”

“Of course. How often does a seventeen year old get asked to marry one of the richest men in Seoul after being made to spend several hours together?” Changmin adds worldly amusement to his voice to cement his bravado. He shouldn’t have moved to sit where he is. Every inhalation is like a damn key unlocking the memories of that afternoon and despite the disturbing assault to his senses, the teen feels strangely safe. He doesn’t want to think about it, so he postures instead.

“Did you hate every minute of it?”

“I wasn’t finished.”

Yunho’s lips quirk. “I’m sorry, please continue.”

“How many seventeen year olds are so indulged out of hand that some old man is willing to give him a billion fucking won for every single year of marriage? What crazy seventeen year old would consider saying no to that? They just need to stay married for a year, and then be set for life.”

“If you’re smart, you’d stay at least five,” Yunho responds, lightly teasing, but he is close to annoyance.

“Birth control?”

“No, I want children.”

“Then no fucking way I’m waiting five years. I’m not leaving my children behind.”

“I hate to remind you, but the gestational period of a human child is nine months in both male and female pregnancies. A little shorter in males in general, but it’s about the same. You need to stay one year to get your money.”

“You’re assuming your swimmers are still swimming right, old man.”

Changmin wants to cry. Despite his words, he really wants to fucking cry. He could already be pregnant now for all he knows. They can tell within three days using a blood test, and he’s just…lost. Being reminded of this fact hurts, and he is more than happy to attack and hope that his words are true. They better be swimming wrong.

Yunho can see the teenager getting more and more agitated, and yet again, all he wants to do is soothe and comfort him. He should be irritated at how mercenary the teenager has turned out to be, but he has the strangest feeling that it’s all for show. The boy is talking about children of his own when he’s barely out of childhood himself. 

He listens to his instincts, wrapping his arms around the slim teen as he starts to stroke his arm. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to push. This is just a discussion, alright? I want to marry you. I think we’ll suit just fine, but I’m not going to force you to marry me. I’m not above bribing, but I’m not asking you this on a whim.”

“Really?” Changmin leans back to search the older man’s face. “So you’re telling me you’ve given this some thought and your lawyers are ready with the papers for me to sign because you’ve given this so much thought you even have the figures worked out?”

“They’re the same terms as Micky’s marriage contract.”

“Oh Yunho,” Changmin chuckles, patting the man’s cheek. “He didn’t tell you, did he?”

“What?”

“He had them re-written. If Micky cheats, Jaejoong gets half of everything, and it doesn’t matter how long they’ve been married.”

“And if Jaejoong cheats?”

“Won’t happen.”

“How do you know?”

“I just do.” Changmin shrugs. “So, are you willing to give me half your empire?”

“No.”

“Thought so.”

Yunho straightens as the car rolls to a halt, pulling the teenager more securely into his lap. “That’s not fair, Changmin. They’ve known each other far longer than we have.”

“Are you in the habit of offering marriage to everyone you fuck?”

“We didn’t fuck.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. We _made love_ ,” Changmin practically chokes on the words. In fact, he does. “Ok that was the grossest thing I’ve ever said in my life and I’ve said a lot of gross things.” He shudders, rubbing at the goosebumps sprouting out from his arms. “You just made my hair stand on end.”

“I think you did that on your own, brat.” Yunho observes, a good deal of cheer in his voice, as the door slides open and his driver waits for further instructions.

“You can’t open your own door? What are you? The president?”

Yunho notices the driver’s mouth twitching, and he really cannot have that. His smile disappears, his words clipped. “Wait till we’re home, then you can say whatever you want. For now, be silent.”

“Yes, my lord.” Changmin manages with as much aplomb and insolence as he can possibly manage as he scrambles out of Yunho’s lap and hops out of the vehicle. His body protests the movement, but he ignores it. He’s been in much more uncomfortable situations before and this is nothing. He is definitely regretting agreeing to go home with Yunho. The idea of companionship too appealing in his vulnerable state and now that he’s out of the stupid vehicle the man thinks is a “car”, sucking in the rather suffocating smell of exhaust fumes, he’s feeling decidedly less agreeable.

“Kuroshitsuji?”

Changmin doesn’t bother answering, pivoting on his heel, he walks off, only to realize he’s surrounded by walls.

“Where the fuck are we?”

“Underground carpark.”

Changmin looks for the exit sign, sees it, and makes haste for it.

“Don’t make me chase you.” Yunho doesn’t raise his voice, simply waiting in the middle of the parking lot. It’s a private section of the parking lot, housing only his cars and he watches as Changmin pauses on his way to _freedom_ to peer at his Ferrari.

“How much did this cost?”

Yunho shrugs.

Changmin’s eyes narrow. “You don’t know?”

“I know the value of the car, the cost is unimportant.”

The teenager scoffs as he runs his fingers along the sleek lines of the shiny red car. It’s a very attractive car for sure, but the show of wealth in that garage alone is giving him pause. He’s exposed to a lot of excess being in the industry he’s in where a ten thousand dollar jacket isn’t unheard of. His tastes run towards the expensive as well, but as his eyes scan the cars, the enormity of the predicament is slowly starting to sink in.

Materially, he will never want for anything.

Emotionally, he will more than assuredly be left with nothing.

A small price to pay perhaps. Changmin is very good at illusions. 

But will it be worth it? Will he be able to sleep at night knowing he sold himself for a fast car and brand labels?

At seventeen, his options are practically nil. His shelf life as a supermodel might last another decade, and then what?

Perhaps it’s time to be the whore Yunho initially thought him to be.

Changmin turns with a mocking smile to the man still waiting for him to come to heel. 

“And what is my value, old man?”

“Whatever I deem it to be.”

—

_**Are you still alive? He hasn’t scratched your eyes out yet? Jaejoong’s been bugging me to call you for most of the last hour and let me tell you, I don’t appreciate being interrupted mid-fuck by my wife asking about my best friend.** _

Yunho suppresses the urge to laugh as he grabs his phone from the side table. The teenager doesn’t even look up at the movement, so engrossed in his new toy that he has barely spared Yunho a second glance since discovering it.

He lifts his phone, smiling fondly at the view the screen offers him. The seventeen year old is finally looking his age. Face scrubbed free of makeup, no defenses up as he concentrates on his game, Yunho is struck by how truly young Changmin is. 

His resolve hardens as he gazes at the phone, chewing thoughtfully on his bottom lip as he takes in the enigma before him. The boy has many faces, and Yunho likes them all.

Insolent.

Insecure.

Innocent.

Intelligent. 

His very favorite?

Insatiable.

And thoroughly incorrigible, Shim Changmin, who wants things done his way or the highway even though he is in no position to bargain. 

It is that courage that Yunho finds intriguing. The posturing is a defense mechanism, and it bothers him that someone so young has to become so hard just to survive.

He doesn’t want this gorgeous beauty left alone in the world to fend for himself. Of that much, he is certain.

And it’s probably about time he got married too, isn’t it?

Yunho straightens his foot, stroking his big toe up a smooth forearm, only to get a quick smack to the ankle, and a growl from the distracted teenager to stop bugging him.

Brave. He’s definitely brave.

And so very beautiful.

He snaps the photo, and sends it to his best friend. He quickly checks that the phone is on silent, before dropping it onto his bare chest, stacking his hands behind his head, he is more than content to spend the rest of the night with the view he’s got. 

He starts to count.

—

Jaejoong opens the message when the alert comes through, and his howl of anger echoes in the expansive Shilla Suite.

Micky, alarmed now puts a hand in the small of his new wife’s back, wanting to soothe him, but all he gets is a phone to his face, and very angry blond glaring at him.

“Look at that!”

Micky looks.

 

 

“Oh.”

“I’m going to fucking kill him.”

—

Twenty seven counts, and the phone starts to vibrate.

“Tell them to stop being nosy fucks and actually concentrate on their wedding night,” Changmin mutters irritatedly as he leopard crawls further up the bed. He is as naked as the day he was born, and more than comfortable in his own skin. Countless people have seen him naked, and being a supermodel toughens your skin pretty fast when it comes to these things. He moves till his head is at waist-level with the prone Jung Yunho, his elbow grazing the man’s bare hip as the phone continues to buzz insistently. He doesn’t bother looking up as he continues speaking. “Either answer that, or turn it off. I hate phones.”

Brave and bossy.

Yunho picks up the phone, seeing his best friend’s number. He answers the call, putting it on speaker phone immediately, guessing that it’s probably the Park wife not husband on the line.

“Jung Yunho, you wretched piece of fucking crap. I don’t give a fuck who you are but if you hurt Changmin, I will break every goddamn bone in your face, do you hear me? Have you no morals? I told you he’s just seventeen, but nooooo, that doesn’t stop the great Jung Yunho from getting what he wants, does it? You’re older than Micky for fuck’s sake! You’re practically a grandfather! Get your hands off my Changminnie! The agreement was that I wouldn’t go to the police if you kept your hands off him and that picture just…just…i’m going to fucking kill you!”

Changmin had looked up the second Jaejoong’s loud voice started echoing around the spacious bedroom. He can hear Micky talking in the background but Jaejoong is on a rampage, and he’s not done yet.

“He’s not legal! Do you hear me? Not fucking legal. I will drag your ass to court if you so much as harm a hair on his head, and I will make sure the whole world knows what a fucking lecher you are. What the fuck are you playing at? You’re disgust—“

“Jaejoong! You only turned eighteen less than two weeks ago.”

“Shut up, Micky. It’s not the same. This is Changminnie. _My Changminnie_. He’s like my baby brother and I don’t care if he’s your best friend, I’m going to rip his perverted fucking cock from his body and feed it back to him!”

“Don’t I have a say in this?”

A sudden hush comes over the room, as Changmin manages to interject as Jaejoong takes his next breath, effectively cutting the man off before he launches into another unseemly tirade.

“Are you ok?”

“Do I sound wounded?” Changmin questions calmly.

“You didn’t look too happy earlier. I’m sorry I agreed to let him take you home. I—“ Jaejoong pauses, eyes narrowing. “Are you even home?”

“I don’t have a home, remember?”

“Yes, he does.” 

“No one’s talking to you, you monster.” 

“The only one turning this into a bad k-drama is you, Park Jaejoong.” Yunho replies firmly as he sees the color suffusing his teenager’s cheeks at his best friend’s words. 

“Bad k-drama? Why you insufferable, arrogant, pompous fuck—“

“That’s enough!” Micky cuts in, and both Yunho and Changmin exchange bemused looks at the scuffling sounds then can hear. Several muffled shouts and thumps, and a screech or two for good measure, and they finally get a breathless Micky back on the phone. “I can’t protect you from him forever. I hope you know what you’re doing, Jung. We fly in a few hours so that’ll give you a clear two months at least. Good night, Changmin. Don’t let him bully you into anything. Give him hell if you must. God knows, it’s about damn time someone did.”

And with that, the CEO of Park Industries hangs up the line.

Changmin drops his chin, returning his gaze to his game but he’s no longer paying any attention. His mind is whirling, playing back that chaotic phone conversation in his mind, his hands frozen over the handheld gaming console. He hasn’t actually said yes, but after seeing the delicious jacuzzi in the bathroom, Changmin is almost ready to say yes to anything. Yunho had made good on the hour he promised Changmin, the old fool even stopping mid-fuck to ask him if he wants to leave.

The fucker.

He barely acknowledges the hand gently taking the game away from him, and tugging him up the bed. Changmin follows, body used to being manipulated and maneuvered for photoshoots, it’s not abnormal to him to be lead as such. 

By the time he regains his mind, it’s too late.

Yunho has him firmly tucked against his side, with an arm around his shoulders.

He starts to struggle, a knee-jerk reaction more than anything, and Yunho gives his bicep a squeeze, before surprisingly, letting him go.

That move breaks down Changmin’s poker face, his face showing his surprise and confusion, the vulnerable expression tugging at Yunho’s conscience.

“I still want you, brat.” Yunho’s voice is soft, not wanting to spook the colt that looks about ready to bolt at any second. “But I want you to want to stay. I’m not going to force you, nor am I going to beg, Shim Changmin. You may stay or go, but if you choose to stay, it will be on the terms I mentioned in the car.”

“And if I choose to go?” Changmin asks the bedspread as he pulls himself away from Yunho’s side, sitting with his legs crossed and fighting to keep from wringing his hands in agitation. He doesn’t want to show the older man any more nervous tics than necessary.

“You’re an intelligent young man. More intelligent than the averages person, and definitely more intelligent than a lot of the people I have to deal with on a daily basis. I know for a fact you haven’t had enough time to weigh up the pros and cons and to come to some type of framework to base your decision on so all I ask is that you don’t choose either way for two months. When the Parks return from their honeymoon, you can give me your answer then.” Yunho’s mouth tugs into a semblance of a smile. “If you stand in front of me and protect me from Jaejoong ripping my cock from my body, I’ll know what your answer is.”

Changmin wills himself not to look up, for he can hear the smile in Yunho’s voice. The urge to return that smile is strong, for he can actually picture Jaejoong at least attempting to emasculate Yunho. His best friend won’t be successful of course, but it definitely won’t be for the lack of trying. Kim-now-Park Jaejoong has a very big heart that he hides behind his animosity and coldness. And even now, if he is really made to choose between his new husband and his best friend, there is no doubt in Changmin’s mind that Jaejoong will choose him.

And it is because of this, that he decides to be “selfless”. He doesn’t want to be the problem in the Park’s marriage. 

So he’ll need to find his own solutions.

He moves to lean forward, raising his legs, he hugs his knees as he thinks about those solutions.

Yunho closes his eyes, tilting his head towards the ceiling, he wonders if Changmin is doing this on purpose, or whether he believes Yunho has the patience of a saint. The boy is all limbs, tanned and toned, and so fucking smooth all over, a clear indication as to his reproductive capability. 

If he opens his eyes and looks down, he knows he’ll be able to see the teenager’s thighs, curving towards his ass. His legs hide his more interesting bits from him, but problem is easily solved. Yunho does open his eyes then, suddenly struck by the photo opportunity. 

Shim Changmin, international supermodel, sitting nude, cross-legged in the middle of the huge bed and hugging his knees, with his cheek grazing the tops of his knees, deep in thought and looking absolutely stunning.

Yunho has never really been very aesthetically inclined, but in that moment, he can almost imagine the black and white photo of the gorgeous nude teenager adorning his office wall. 

A trophy.

If only he could freeze the moment.

The sentimentality of his thoughts is lost to him, the businessman in him despairing at the lost opportunity instead.

“Jung.”

Changmin looks up, gazing quizzically at the serious countenance of the older man. “What?”

“Jung Changmin sounds better than Shim Changmin.”

The teenager quirks a brow. “I like Shim just fine, thank you.”

“For how long?”

The boy shrugs as he leans forward, hugging his legs tighter as he feels a need to hide behind that veneer of protection his legs accord him as they place him at least that much of a distance from the indomitable will of Jung Yunho. 

“You said you’d give me two months.”

“When do you turn eighteen?”

“November 11.”

“We’ll be more respectable than Micky the grease monkey and wait a month.”

Changmin starts to cough as laughter bubbles up his chest, threatening to spill from his throat. How many times has he heard Jaejoong describe the man as such? It’s infinitely funnier coming from Yunho. He recovers quickly enough, trying to mirror Yunho’s still serious countenance.

Unnoticed by him, he’s leaned back slightly, lowering his legs to afford Yunho a view of his torso once again.

“Way ahead of yourself there, old man.”

“I’m just thinking out loud. I figured you’d appreciate the notice. I don’t want to surprise you with an invitation to your own wedding.” Yunho remarks lightly, his eyes watching the teenager carefully. 

Changmin is tired; bone weary in body, and a little heart sore in general. It’s too damn exhausting both mentally and physically to keep your defenses up 24/7 and the teenager gives in. He figures it’s been a long fucking day. He’s allowed to relax for a few hours, isn’t he? And besides, despite his initial (forced) dislike of the man, there is really nothing about Yunho that Changmin finds intolerable.

Yes, he’s bossy as hell and god, Changmin just wants to slap the pompous ass on more than one occasion. He’s so utterly dictatorial and so used to getting his own way that he’s practically impossible to be around for longer than a short period of time.

However, the mess that greets him when he enters the penthouse apartment shows him that the great Jung Yunho isn’t infallible.

The man is a fucking slob.

Clothes, documents, even half opened bottles of soju. 

Changmin had taken one look at the mess, given Yunho the dirtiest look he could muster, which actually left the man looking a smidgen ashamed of himself which made the teenager feel better, and proceeded to tidy.

He loathes mess.

And Yunho is rather good at being instructed. After Changmin had threatened to drop some random comic still in its plastic wrapping down the waste disposal by the sink, the businessman had cooperated pretty fucking fast. All it takes is twenty minutes and the living and kitchen area of the penthouse is tidy enough for Changmin’s liking. 

It also gives him some hope, for while Yunho is intolerant of him misbehaving in public if his curt order to be silent in front of the driver is anything to go by, he is a lot less rigid in the penthouse. Changmin had practically nagged him to death, so horrified at the state of his walk-in closet that Yunho had to distract him with the bathroom.

And what a bathroom that was.

He’d pushed the man several times, taunting, mocking, even insulting his manhood, knowing full well Yunho could turn him over his knee and paddle his bottom for his fucking insolence.

That thought may or may not have made his body perk up in interest.

Maybe the mogul has it right and he really is a deviant.

But the Jung tycoon merely smirks, as if amused by a little puppy trying to assert itself in the hierarchy.

Changmin doesn’t like it one bit.

But he doesn’t hate it either.

And he does love jacuzzis, rooftop lap pools and a walk-in closet just begging to be organized.

If that wasn’t enough, Yunho’s library and collection of all manner of gaming consoles and their accouterments almost seal the deal.

Almost, because he still has a little problem. 

The _only_ problem for the teenager who has only allowed Jaejoong into his heart and no one else.

But it is a problem for another day, when the sun is shining, and he isn’t feeling like he’s cutting off his nose to spite his face by continuing to be ornery and ignoring the comfort the other man provides him.

Yunho doesn’t allow his face to reflect his surprise when Changmin purses his lips, pouting thoughtfully, before stretching his arms up over his head. He yawns widely before getting on his hands and knees and crawling forward, and sprawling over Yunho’s chest, pretty much forcing the man to accommodate his lanky frame as the man wraps a strong arm around his slim shoulders. He might be a supermodel, but he’s also still seventeen and while he’s probably reached his potential in terms of height, his breadth still needs a bit of work.

He throws his leg over the comforter that is hiding Yunho from view, narrowly missing kneeing the man where it will hurt the most, as he huffs and closes his eyes. He takes a deep breath, before he starts to speak, trying to inject as much _I really don’t give a fuck whatever you do but here’s my two cents if we’re really going to go ahead with this sham of a marriage_ into his tone. It helps that his face is on the man’s shoulder because if Yunho smirks, he might just get angry all over again.

Angry at his traitorous body that is. The score now stands at Changmin 0 Body 7 and he is damned if it reaches double digits before the night is over.

“That means you’ll only have four months. I think they had a little longer than that to plan this ridiculous wedding.”

Yunho shifts, carding his hand through the back of the teenager’s still slightly damp hair. He is doing one hell of an internal jig that he will never ever under pain of death, ever admit to, at the boy’s words. He clears his throat to make sure it doesn’t infuse his voice as well, before he replies as coolly as he can manage.

“Do you want a bigger wedding than theirs?”

He really should be worried at how Changmin affects him, but he is more than secure in his ability to compartmentalize his future wife and place him where he ought to belong.

Changmin snuggles closer, his head and heart at war with each other, but comfort wins the day.

“I don’t give a fuck. We could be married by the trash can on the side of the road for all I care.”

“Is that what you really want?”

“I just want to be left alone.”

“I can’t do that.”

“I know.”

“Do you just?”

“You’re here, aren’t you? Most people find my personality a little less winning than Jaejoong’s and that’s saying a lot.”

“I think they just need to get to know you.”

“Fuck me you mean?”

“No one’s fucking you but me.” 

Yunho’s voice turns mean in a heartbeat, his hand tightening over Changmin’s shoulder causing the teenager to roll his eyes. And the man calls him melodramatic? What the hell? He decides to change the subject before he gets a bruise on his shoulder to match the one on his thigh. 

“So…I have two months?”

“Yes, but will you need all that time?”

Changmin shrugs as he relaxes his body further, sinking against Yunho’s hard torso, rubbing his cheek on his shoulder. The man is attractive as fuck and Changmin has to give at least that much to him. For a thirty-three year old, he is at the peak of physical condition and hasn’t gone to seed unlike so many indulgent businessmen. “It’s a good a time as any to decide if we even suit. A trial so to speak. I’m moving in, right?”

Yunho is _really_ trying very hard to keep from dancing that mental jig and he is also absolutely judging himself for the inclination in the first place.

“I can send someone to get your things in the morning.”

“You’re going to need at least four big suitcases. Jaejoong stole the ones we were sharing.”

“I’ll buy you a new luggage set. Louis Vuitton?”

Changmin wrinkles his nose, shaking his head. “That’s so Jaejoong, ugh.”

“Moncrief?”

“A hefty price tag doesn’t make it any more appealing visually.”

“Burberry?”

“Do you actually know your labels or are you just throwing shit out to impress me?” Changmin is sleepy and for some reason, Yunho is tickling his funny bone. He feels the older man chuckle and press a kiss to his forehead.

“Mulberry?”

“Sold.”

—

Changmin is on the phone in a strange fucking room in the Park mansion. Micky Park Yoochun clearly has too much money and no idea what to do with it, for there are several rooms like the one he’s currently in.

Themed rooms of sorts, like some crazy Japanese love hotel though these are not bedrooms.

Like Yunho, Micky is a collector, but unlike the older businessman, Micky collects art.

The teenager gazes around the room in distaste as he’s put on hold once again. 

Art is definitely in the eye of the beholder. Jaejoong likes his husband’s weird taste in whatever his definition of art is. Changmin is more inclined to think a child could do a better job that whoever “decorated” that room. 

Flecks and bits of paint cover four walls, no rhyme or reason to it whatsoever. It just looks as if someone had taken a loaded brush and just flicked it. According to Jaejoong, that’s pretty much exactly what happened. Micky commissioned “artists” for each room, telling them to let their imagination go wild and do whatever they want to the room.

Too much money and no fucking taste. Changmin is definitely glad for his own home.

His two months are up, the Parks only just arriving from Japan after circumnavigating the globe. 

He’d been picked up by his eager best friend straight from his photoshoot, Micky’s consequence alone enough for the director to let Changmin leave without changing. His clothes are too loud for his tastes, and his hair still full of product, the wavy fringe obscuring his eyes every now and again. And after arriving at the mansion, his best friend and husband decide to disappear to god only knows where, leaving Changmin to wander about the house while he waits for the newlyweds to stop fucking like bunnies.

It’s not as if he can cast stones anyway. He’d love to get mad at Jaejoong for not even letting him go home to change, but he knows what it’s like to want to fuck the second he claps his eyes on his lover, and so he lets his best friend get away with his inhospitable behavior. 

The annoying elevator music in his ear finally ends, and a human appears on the line.

“Korean Air, can I help?”

“I need two first class tickets to Paris in mid-September. The actual dates are flexible, but arrival has to be by the twenty-fifth at the latest,” the teenager answers smoothly, cradling the phone and examining his nails as the lady puts him on hold again.

“First class?” Jaejoong enters the room, hearing Changmin’s request, his husband in tow, both walking in hand in hand. “Are you going to fashion week?”

Changmin doesn’t reply, merely quirking an eyebrow as the lady returns to the line.

“We have two first class seats available. How will you be paying?”

“Credit card.”

“Type?”

“Amex.”

“Number please.”

Changmin rattles off the fifteen digits from memory, prompting Jaejoong’s eyebrow to raise even further and Micky to chuckle as he settles himself in an overstuffed armchair, pulling his wife onto his lap.

“Name?”

“Jung Yunho.”

Jaejoong makes an indelicate sound as he struggles to leave his husband’s lap, but Micky holds fast. 

Changmin continues to examine his nails, glancing up at the commotion, but offering nothing in return.

“Are you the concierge for this card?”

“Do I sound like a concierge to you?” Changmin drawls as he leans back against the wall. As is his habit, he runs his fingertips along the edge of his teeth.

“Uh…” the lady falters. She’s had limited experience with users of this particular card, and every single time it’s always been an agent doing the booking. “I don’t mean to offend. May I have the names of the passengers?”

“Jung Yunho,” Changmin starts, glancing up once again when he notices movement in the doorway in his peripheral vision. His expression gives nothing away as he notes the overwhelming presence of the man standing there, watching him.

“The second passenger?”

“Shim Changmin.”

“Passport number.”

Changmin shifts his weight, giving the woman both his and Yunho’s details. 

The call ends shortly after, and the teenager returns the retro phone to its cradle slowly, bracing himself for the assault.

“Explain, now.”

“I’m going to fashion week.”

“Walking or watching?”

“Buying,” Yunho answers as strolls into the room. He acknowledges his best friend’s smirk and thumb’s up, watching as the man struggles to hold onto his reddening wife. Park Jaejoong looks like he’s about to burst a gasket.

Changmin walks forward to meet the older man halfway, expression empty of any hint of welcome as he pecks him on the mouth, hands placed delicately on his broad shoulders, before he turns to face his apoplectic best friend.

Yunho doesn’t notice the cool welcome, accustomed to it already especially in public. In the penthouse or even in his cars, the welcome he gets is vastly different. 

Jaejoong notices everything.

He finally manages to break free from his husband’s hold, darting forward quickly, wanting nothing more than to kick Yunho where the sun don’t shine for putting the emptiness in the expressive eyes of his baby brother, when his attack is thwarted by Changmin stepping in the way.

“Don’t, hyung.”

Jaejoong looks up and he sees the aloof facade crumbling around the edges in his best friend’s eyes. More concerned now than ever, he gives Yunho a free pass for he wants nothing more than to drag Changmin into an empty room and grill him.

“Does this mean what I think it means?” Yunho asks, remembering full well their conversation on that fateful day.

“If you had to ask, you’re not as smart as you think, old man,” Changmin murmurs as he takes his friend’s hand. “I have a last minute shoot tonight. Don’t wait up.” He pulls Jaejoong towards the door, but is stopped in his tracks by Yunho using that tone with him.

“I want confirmation, Shim Changmin.”

“I like Jung better.”

“Oh my god,” Jaejoong blurts out, twisting to stare at the smirking Yunho and then back at his poker-faced friend who starts to walk again, pulling him along in his wake.

The teenagers leave the room to the sounds of extremely self-satisfied masculine laughter.

“Did he force you?”

“No.”

“Are you pregnant?”

“No.”

“Then why?”

“Freedom.”

Jaejoong falls silent, appreciating at least that reason to be genuine for Changmin has spoken about it many times.

The word sounds false to Changmin’s ears though.

He wanted freedom from relying on anyone.

But the cost of that freedom is tying himself to a man he is desperately trying to keep at an arms’ length for he knows only grief awaits him if he falls.

They have spent the last couple of months debating the terms of a hypothetical marriage contract.

Changmin had negotiated his own terms, pushing hard sometimes just to see if Yunho will back off.

Unfortunately, the man always has a counter that makes logical sense of Changmin’s purposefully illogical requests.

Cold and methodical, both of them have thrown out practically every scenario imaginable.

Though the perks are incomparable, Changmin’s use of Yunho’s Centurion Card earlier merely one example of it, the teenager cannot help but think he is losing far more than he is gaining.

The end result is a deal any business major in college would be proud of. 

But it leaves Changmin with an emptiness in his chest where his heart should be.

Is this what it feels like to sell yourself to the highest bidder?

The only bidder.

**Author's Note:**

> So young…so haughty…so aloof…so very cold. He won’t even let his best friend in. I can’t get that gif out of my head, and it hurts to know his reality is so far from his illusion. I know I didn’t do it justice, but it hurts too much to write it out. I want to wrap Changmin in a cashmere blanket and set fire to Yunho.


End file.
